Of Rain and Rooftops
by Larissa x3
Summary: Leon and Yuffie fight one night in Traverse Town. He does something that he never meant to happen, but what does it mean to the young ninja? Squffie


**My first Squffie. A one-shot, so that I don't plague you poor readers with my lack of originality. I mean, there's only so much that hasn't been written, and I'm in no mood to write it now.**

**Summary: Leon and Yuffie fight one night in Traverse Town. He does something that he never meant to happen, but what does it mean to the young ninja?**

**Disclaimer: Do you _really_ think I friggen' own Kingdom Hearts?**

I, the Great Ninja Yuffie, have royally screwed up.

Well, I suppose you're going to be wanting to hear more detail than that aren't ya? And don't give me any of that "It's rude to pry..." bullshit. I asked if you wanted to _hear_, not if you were going to ask. I'd sure as hell want to hear, but maybe that's just me...

So, before you leave or give me pity or sympathy (please don't, I get enough of that from Aerith even when I'm happy) I'm going to tell you what I did to get myself alone, cold and wet (it's raining), and on the roof of the Accessory Shop.

It all started a few hours ago, I was bored and needed something to do. So I decided to talk to, or do _something_ with the first person I'd see. Eww...Not that _something_...Perverts.

Anyways, who do I run into but Squall "Le-fucking-angst-whore-on" Leonheart? Because he was the _last_ person I wanted to be around, I decided: _To hell with 'the first person I see'...I'm going to find Cid. At least he will 'improve my vocabulary'!_ (Yes, he actually referred to his...habits using that terminology a few weeks ago!)

But luck hates me.

"Yuffie, what the hell are you doing?" the leather-clad man drawled. (I do have to admit, as much as he pisses the hell out of me, he is _hot_! And he's sweet...Sometimes...You're all laughing at me aren't you? Because you figured out that Yuffie has a crush on the man she shared a bed with for six years? Oh, that sounded _so_ wrong. Well, back to my story:)

"Umm...Walking?" I replied, hoping I could still escape.

"Don't be a smart-ass," (did he actually sound amused for once?) "I know what you're doing."--and here his voice changed to cynical and sarcastic and all things Sqangsty. Yes, I made a word. Squall is a whole different category of angst. Believe me,-- "You're going to pull a prank on me, aren't you? You think it's _fun_ to dye my hair pink at night. You think it's _fun_ to use Sharpies to give me '_a beautiful makeover_'. But go ahead. I'm used to it. After all, my life never gets any worse." His eyes flicked to the ring attached to the buckle on one of his belts. The one he'd given Rinoa before the destruction of Hollow Bastion. The one she'd returned to him on the day of their breakup. The day before the Heartless took her.

I glared at Squall. "You know," I began. I knew this was a touchy subject for him, and Aerith always told me not to bring it up, but I couldn't help it. "You're not the only one who's lost people you cared about. You weren't the only one who loved. And you weren't the only one who loved Rinoa. She was Aerith's best friend! She was like a sister, mother and friend all into one for me! And there were other people we all lost too! Shera, Cloud and Vin--"

"You were _twelve,_" Squall spat at me. "Don't you dare say you loved that freak!"

"His name was Vincent." I spat right back. I knew I was about to cross the final line. "You and Rinoa were twelve when you starte--"

_Smack!_, and a searing pain across my cheek. Leon fucking Leonheart is really strong. Comes from being able to _life_ that damn Gunblade. I looked up at him. He was using his left hand to hold onto his right wrist, staring at it as if it had betrayed him, at the same time as if it had done something immensely satisfying. Then he looked at me, back to his hand, and ran off into the night. Probably to his precious _Waterway_.

So that's how I wound up here. With only a toy moogle (life size!) to comfort me. My eyes were wet, and it wasn't the rain. I was crying. Not for the dead of Hollow Bastion. Not for all the people I wouldn't see again in this lifetime, but for the person who after six years, still grieved as if it had all happened a mere six minutes ago.

Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I didn't care about the others, but I remember everyone loving me for being optimistic. I don't think they'd be too happy if I turned into Mr. Stoic-and-Cynical. I don't think Vincent hates me for liking someone other than him, either. He'd want me to move on, have kids, be happy and all that.

So, I'm crying for the person who as sure as hell is letting down his parents, his friends, and most importantly, Rinoa. I'm crying for the person who has become all that they didn't want him to. And maybe I'm crying a little bit because I know he won't ever think of me in the way I think of him.

I hear heavy footsteps, a rhythm I recognize all too well, under the overhang of the roof. I pull my moogle closer to my face. _Please don't see me..._

"_Kupo!_" says the toy moogle. Damn. I squeezed it too hard. _Please think it's a synthesizing moogle in the shop. Please don't see me..._

Damn. I hear him climbing the roof. Curse these talking moogle toys! I bury my head deeper into it.

Silence. Then I make a choking sound loud enough to be heard through the moogle's plush (I'm still crying).

"Yuffie..." he whispers softly behind me. I want to punch him. I want to hug him. I want him to go away.

"Yuffie..." he says again, louder, but still quiet.

"Go away," I say in a hollow voice.

"Yuffie..." he whispers a third time. This time I feel warmth cover my back, sides, and midriff. I look down to see he's wrapped his arms around me. I'm not crying anymore. Now I'm bordering on giddiness, my stomach practically jumping over itself. At least, it feels like that. Damn you, hormones!

I hear him sigh and feel something warm against the top of my head. I realize with a start that he's resting his lips against my head. I lean back, the curve of my spine curling into his embrace. He moves closer, his legs around me, arms holding me tight, kissing the back of my head. And I know it's his way of apologizing. It's his way of finally letting go of the blame he put on himself six years ago. And I just sit there, content.

Damn hormones...


End file.
